Page 41 of Maximus

Just. A. Touch.

What the hell was that? How was it possible a brush of his lips could drive me crazy?

One hand went to my thigh, his fingers pressed tight, and his thrusts became harder, rougher, filling me over and over.

His eyes stayed locked with mine—the blue, so blue, I was re-mesmerized.

Lost.

Max shifted his weight on his elbow, freeing his hand to wander to my breast. His thumb brushed my nipple before he pinched and rolled. Zaps of pleasure had me squirming under him.

His gaze never left mine—the level of his intensity was overwhelming, disconcerting, too real, too raw, I was too exposed. I had to close my eyes—my emotions were too close to the surface.

“No,” Max growled. “Open your eyes.”

They snapped open to find intense pools of stormy, ocean blues staring down at me.

“Keep them open,” he grunted.

Through this exchange, Max’s thrusts never faltered—demanding, hard, controlled.

He drove his dick deep, my leg captured in his strong grip, and he held my soul hostage with his gaze.

All of it too much.

Yet not enough. My hips bucked to meet his as he pumped harder. So close. It was coming, I could feel my orgasm barreling full speed. And when his hand left my breast and went between my legs, his thumb circled my clit, and my back arched off the bed. Max was not a gentle lover, he didn’t start slow and work his way up. He went for it.

“Max.” I meant to say more, but I lost my breath and the ability to think when he adjusted his angle and slid in deeper.

So fucking good, I was going to die from it.

Max’s eyes flashed and I didn’t miss it because he was still staring at me—never in all my life had anyone ever watched me so intently.

There was nothing I could do but hold on. My legs tightened, my heels dug in, and I pulled him closer. Reaching for a closeness that was more than I could handle. A connection that I knew would break me, but I wanted it all the same. I shouldn’t want it. I knew I should’ve just taken the orgasm he was wringing from me and been happy, but I wanted more. I needed it and I knew I didn’t deserve it—especially from Max—but just for a moment, I didn’t want to feel so alone.

It was wrong and I knew it, but I was going to ask for it anyway. I was going to use Max to fill the void of nothingness that was inside of me.

“Kiss me,” I moaned.

He hesitated and his rhythm became choppy and unsure.

My heart pounded in my chest, my insecurities rose to the surface. With great clarity, I saw up close and personal when Max slowly blinked how badly I’d screwed up. I knew better than to want something for myself.

I was nothing.

And I didn’t deserve a damn thing.

“Eva, honey, open your eyes.”

Softer, but still a demand.

His thumb on my clit slowed and the orgasm he was building started to slip away.

“No. Please,” I begged.

I was so close, and if I could have him, at least I could take the pleasure he was offering.

“I’ll give you anything you want if you open your eyes and look at me.”